


Should've Stayed Gone

by Fallenstar92



Series: Gallavich: Life, Love, and Parenting [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Adopted Children, Anger, Angst, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Comforting Ian Gallagher, EMT Ian Gallagher, Emotional Sex, Established Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mental Health Issues, Non-Explicit Sex, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Past Child Abuse, Sad Mickey Milkovich, Tattoo Artist Mickey Milkovich, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar92/pseuds/Fallenstar92
Summary: Mickey never expected to see her, again; he thought her walking out was the end of their relationship. So, what is he supposed to do when his mother starts showing up, everywhere?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Gallavich: Life, Love, and Parenting [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815346
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	1. First Time In A Long Time

School being called off and Liam's teacher being too sick to do zoom meetings meant that Liam was sitting in the tattoo shop with Mickey, quietly reading a book as Mickey worked on a design for a client. "Hey, Mick! You got time for a walk in? It's a small piece; probably only gonna take you about twenty minutes." Luke explained as he walked over to Mickey's station and ruffled Liam's hair.

"Yeah, I got time; my next appointment ain't until two." Mickey answered, looking up at Liam as the little boy stayed focused on the book in his hands. Ian had given Liam a book about Surrealist artists for his birthday, and the boy was hooked; he barely put it down, even two weeks after his birthday.

"Cool. Lady specifically requested you." Luke said, stepping back out into the lobby to direct the woman to Mickey's station.

"You know what to do if someone wants a tattoo on their ass or their tits?" Mickey asked his son, watching the boy, closely.

"Go up front with Luke and stay there until they leave." Liam replied, fairly used to this conversation with his father from the numerous times he'd had to stay at the tattoo shop with him.

"You got it." Mickey replied with a smirk.

"Okay, Mick, this is Laura-" Mickey's shocked expression seemed to stop Luke as the man saw the woman standing with Luke; the woman he hadn't seen in eighteen years.

"Laura Milkovich. Hi, _Mama."_ Mickey said, glaring Laura down with so much venom both Liam and Luke decided to excuse themselves.

"What the fuck is goin' on here?! I requested _Mickey Gallagher,_ not _Mikhailo Milkovich!"_ Laura shouted, angrily, already on the verge of running when she realized this was her son. But how could she _not_ notice it was her little Mikhailo? He looked exactly like her-the same vibrant blue eyes, thick eyelashes, high cheekbones, full lips, and thin, straight nose-aside from his hair, which was the same striking shade of black as Laura's natural hair before she had bleached it.

"Changed my last name when I got married. See, weird thing is? Our lives kept fuckin' movin' after you took off and ditched us with fuckin' Terry!" Mickey shouted without meaning to. He hated that he was letting Laura being here fuck with his head, so much.

"You took your wife's last name? What kinda bitch did Terry raise?!" Laura sneered, bitterly.

"No, not at all." Mickey said with a laugh, waiting for Laura to calm down. "I took my husband's last name." At that Laura's face turned completely red.

"You're a fuckin' faggot?!" Laura screamed, causing Liam to gasp from the lobby.

"Yeah, I'm gay, Mom. Aren't ya fuckin' proud? Your little boy takes it up the ass!" Mickey yelled, getting much closer to Laura. "And you're gonna stop screamin', 'cause if you scare my kid? You're gonna have me to fuckin' deal with." Mickey whispered, viciously. "Leave; I'm not doin' you're fuckin' tattoo."

"You can't turn away a payin' customer." Laura replied.

"I can, and I am. Get the fuck out." Mickey said, angrily before he walked out into the lobby to ensure Liam was okay, only vaguely aware that Laura left when he heard the bell over the door ring.

"I guess I just thought your Mom was dead when she never came back for you or Mandy." Ian said, later that night, as he and Mickey prepared dinner and Liam played in the living room with Ruger. "Does she look like you or anything?"

"Looks like Mandy. Well, like Mandy in about twnety years." Mickey said with a shrug.

"Wait... She's forty-four? But... Terry was sixty-eight when he died, and that was, what, two years ago?" Ian rambled off. "But... Colin's four years older than _you."_

"Terry was twenty-five when he met Laura. She was thirteen; he turned twenty-six and she turned fourteen right before Colin was born. Colin was born when she was fourteen, Iggy when she fifteen, me when she was eighteen, and then Mandy when she was twenty." Mickey explained without looking away from the steaks he was cooking.

"Holy fuck." Ian breathed, quietly. "I knew he was a fuckin' waste, but... She was just a kid." Ian didn't know who he felt worse for; his husband or his mother-in-law, who had her childhood stolen by Terry Milkovich. "When did they get married?"

"Between Iggy and me. It was the biggest gap between kids, but I guess he pushed her down some stairs and she lost one between us, and thought if he married her she wouldn't leave." Mickey said, sadly. "I know her situation was fucked-don't think I don't-but... Man, she should've took us when she left. I was _eight,_ and I had to step up and take care of Mandy."

"I get it. And, you're not wrong; no one should've been left alone with Terry." Ian said, running his hand up and down the length of Mickey's spine. "Maybe if you two see each other, again, you'll actually have a decent parent."

"Fuckin' doubt it, man; sounded like she was as big of a homophobe as fuckin' Terry was." Mickey said, wincing at the memory of his mother's words, earlier that day. "Said I was a bitch for takin' my "wife's" last name, and then she called me a faggot when I said I took my _husband's_ last name."

"Then fuck her. We've got a pretty good family, without your homophobic, asshole parents. I'm gonna go get Liam to wash his hands and feed Ruger before we eat." Ian said, leaning his chest against Mickey's back in an extremely comforting manner. "I love you, your brothers love you-in their own, weird way-Mandy loves you, my family loves you, and our son loves you; you don't need her if you don't want her in your life." Ian said, walking away after he placed a sweet, loving kiss on Mickey's cheek, leaving the brunette man feeling much better than he had since he'd seen Laura fucking Milkovich, that afternoon.

Ian was right; he didn't need her, so he was just going to focus on his family and enjoy his night with his husband, their son, and their oversized lap dog. And to Mickey? That was a pretty fucking perfect night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping we get a chance to see Mickey confront his mom for her leaving them in season 11. Until then, I hope everyone enjoyed this look at what I feel that would go like. Leave me some comments, beauties! Be good people. Much love!


	2. I Wish Nothing But The Best, For You

Mickey had been off since his run in with Laura-not in his work, because that had somehow remained flawless-whenever he was home with his husband, son, and their dog; he was more of a Zombie than a human being, and Ian was starting to worry he may not get his bitch-slapping, shit talking, piece of Southside trash husband back, after this. "Thanks for takin' them, for the day, Debs." Ian sighed as he passed his sister two bags; one with Ruger's food, his favorite chew toys-because if he didn't have toys he tended to go after shoes-favorite treats, and his blanket in it, and the other containing Liam's favorite snacks, the waters he always drank, his medication-he'd come down with a pretty nasty Upper Respiratory infection, over the past week, which had him on Antibiotics and an inhaler for the moments when he couldn't catch his breath-an extra hoodie for if he got cold, and some comfortable clothes in case the kid's illness wore him out and he needed a nap.

"Mickey's family, Ian; you know we got his back." Debbie said, offering Ian a soft, sympathetic smile. "Besides, Franny loves when her cousin comes over to play!" Debbie added, cheerfully.

"Yeah, but Ruger's a big ass dog." Ian said, wryly. He knew Ruger-who was now up to almost eighty pounds-looked huge, destructive, and mean, but the dog was honestly the sweetest animal Ian had ever met. That being said, he didn't know what Ruger acted like when he was forced away from his favorite human-Mickey-even if he was taking his second favorite human-Liam-with him.

"The worst thing he's ever done was ate one of those ugly ass slippers Franny got you for your birthday." Debbie laughed, reaching down to scratch Ruger's head, lovingly.

"He ate both of them, actually." Ian replied with a soft laugh. "And Liam's old sneakers."

"I gave those to Ruger when I got new ones because they were too small." Liam admitted. "Pops was washing his stuffed Monkey and he wanted a toy." Ian remembered that day; Ruger had taken his favorite toy outside, in the rain, and the thing was covered in mud. So, as Ian gave Ruger a bath-which, surprisingly, the massive creature loved-Mickey had stuck the toy in the washer. Ruger looked heartbroken for the next forty minutes, only cheering up when he pranced out of Liam's bedroom with two, small shoes in his mouth.

"Be good for Aunt Debbie, call me or Pops if you need anything, and remember to take your antibiotics when you eat." Ian instructed his son, kneeling to hug Liam before turning his attention to Ruger. "Behave yourself, watch your kids, and listen when people tell you to do somethin' you massive fuckin' beast." Ian said, being rewarded with a lick to his cheek from their over-sized Puppy. "Good boy, Ruges." Ian said, giving Ruger one last pat on the back before Debbie left the house with him and Liam.

"Where's the kid?" Mickey asked in a tired slur as he made his way from the master bedroom to the kitchen shortly after Debbie left with Ruger and Liam.

"They're spendin' the day with Debbie and Franny." Ian replied as he poured Mickey a cup of coffee.

"They?" Mickey questioned, letting out a sigh as he took in the warm, slightly bitter scent of the hipster fucking coffee-that, okay, Mickey could admit he liked because the shit was way stronger than the fucking Maxwell House crap his Dad always drank when he was younger-filling his senses.

"Took Ruges with him." Ian said, humming some dumbass pop song as he made them breakfast. Mickey loved being a father, but there were definitely days he missed moments like this; moments where it was just him and Ian, enjoying the comforting silence of their little house as they downed mugs of whatever "Organically grown, ethically sourced, master roasted" coffee Ian bought.

"Your brother and sister are gonna get sick of us sendin' our kid and dog to them anytime you wanna have a full day to fuck me senseless, Gallagher." Mickey joked, though even he could hear how numb it sounded.

"Probably gonna happen, at some point, but that's not the plan, for today; we're gonna have breakfast and you're gonna talk." Ian said, firmly. "Didn't want Liam here for it, 'cause you tend to throw fuckin' punches when you gotta talk about your feelings."

"I'm not gonna fuckin' hit you." Mickey seethed through his tightly clenched jaw. "And I'm not gonna talk, 'cause I got nothin' to fuckin' say; she fuckin' ran out the night before my eigth fuckin' birthday. She never called us, didn't say a fuckin' word, and never came back to get her God damn kids; she left us with fuckin' Terry." Mickey said, angrily. "I don't got shit to say, 'cause I barely fuckin' remember what it was like to have a Mom! 

"You know how many fuckin' times Terry beat the shit outta me 'cause I look like her?! 'Cause I don't; I lost count after he put me in the fuckin' hospital when he beat me, so bad, I stopped fuckin' breathin' and Iggy freaked out!" Mickey shouted, not sure how Ian got him to spill so much without saying a word.

"You never told me about that." Ian said, removing everything from the stove and stepping closer to Mickey. "Is that when DCFS took you outta the house?"

"Yeah." Mickey groaned, dropping heavily into the chair behind him, recalling every detail his brother, sister, and cousin had given him after he woke up in s hospital bed.

_**Sixteen Years Ago** _

Mickey was tired; he'd been up, all night, trying to keep Sandy and Mandy's crying under control as the two, eight-year-old girls battled the flu. Both girls were vomiting, sweating, and generally miserable, but-at ten years old-Mickey knew it would only get worse if Terry heard them whimpering and wailing. "The fuck are you doin' home?" Terry demanded as he walked into the house with a bottle of Vodka in his hand. "You're 'posed to be with your brothers!" Terry yelled, causing Mandy to whimper from her room.

"Why is she fuckin' cryin'?! I need to give her a fuckin' reason to cry?!" Terry yelled, causing Mandy to cry, harder.

"N-no! S-she's sick, s-so I stayed home to keep her quiet." Mickey said, trying to block Mandy's bedroom doorway the best he could with such a small body.

"So, you wanted to fuckin' play "Mommy" and not make me money?!" Terry angrily shouted, sneering down at Mickey as the boy-far too small for his age-tried to keep him away from the two girls beyond the open doorway. "Fuckin' look like a bitch, might as well act like one, huh?!"

"I-I w-was tryin' to help." Mickey said, feeling tears burning his eyes; any time Terry mentioned Mickey looking like his Mother, it always hurt.

"Shut the fuck up!" Terry shouted, wrapping one hand around Mickey's throat as his other formed a fist, causing the small boy to black out when it connected with his head.

Iggy walked into the house, being met with the sounds of screams, the smell of vomit, and the blood-chilling sight of Mickey-arguably the only decent one out of Terry's fucked up kids-laying on the floor, bloody and unconscious as Terry continually punched the kid. Mandy and Sandy were shouting at Terry to get off of Mickey as they hit him in the back with a bat and a broken piece of Mandy's bedroom door, Terry wasn't letting up, and-what had Iggy ready to vomit along with both girls-Mickey's breathing was far too slow.

"Get the fuck off him, Dad; you're gonna kill him!" Iggy shouted, trying with every bit of his thirteen-year-old strength to pull Terry off Mickey when he got an idea. "Mandy!" He shouted, holding out his hand until Mandy passed him the bat. As soon as his hands were around the wooden bat, Iggy swung it at Terry's head, watching the two eight-year-olds pull Mickey's nearly lifeless body away as Terry hit the ground.

"Sandy, get me the phone!" Iggy ordered as he carried Mickey into his bedroom and locked the door as soon as Sandy was safely in the room. Iggy placed his hand near Mickey's nose to see if his brother was still breathing-thank fucking God he was-as he snatched the phone from Sandy and dialed 911.

 _"911, do you require police, fire, or Ambulance services?"_ The operator asked as soon as the call connected.

"Mandy, Sandy! Get in the bathroom and lock the door! Hi, yeah, I... I need an ambulance, m-my brother's hurt!" Iggy rushed out, his blood running cold when he saw how bad Mickey looked. "O-our Dad was hittin' him when I got home; he won't wake up." Iggy almost cried, trying his hardest to bring Mickey back to consciousness.

 _"Are you away from your father, now?"_ The woman asked Iggy, typing away at her computer.

"Y-yeah. I knocked him out and took Mickey to my room with the girls; the door's locked." Iggy said, watching Mickey's chest to ensure he kept breathing. "Mandy! Get back in the bathroom; don't come out 'til I say so!" Iggy shouted as Mandy tried to sneak out of the bathroom to check on Mickey, but Iggy didn't want her to see this; to see their brother potentially dying on the floor.

 _"Can you tell me your name?"_ The woman softly asked.

"Iggy. I'm Iggy Milkovich. My brother's name is Mickey. Please help him; he's only ten." That seemed to set something off in the woman as she asked for the address and began typing faster.

 _"Iggy, is Mickey showing any signs of waking up?"_ She asked as she typed.

"N-no, he's... Oh God! MICKEY!" Iggy screamed as the worst happened; Mickey had stopped breathing. "H-he's not breathin'! Help me, _please!_ He's not breathin'!" 

_"Iggy, do you know how to preform CPR?"_ She asked, earning an affirmative hum. _"Good. I need you to give Mickey CPR. Can you do that?"_ Iggy hummed again before starting compressions. He'd learned CPR before Terry sent him on his first run with Colin, worried he'd be helpless if something happened to his older brother. He was glad he'd done it, now, because Mickey was basically still a fucking baby.

"Come on, Mick, you can do it! Don't die, Mick, please." Iggy pleaded, barely aware of anything going on around him when he saw the wonderful sight of Mickey's chest rising and falling, on it's own, again. "Thank fuck!" Iggy exclaimed, slowly standing to unlock his bedroom door to let the Paramedics get to Mickey.

When Mickey woke up, his whole body hurt and he didn't know where he was. "Iggy! Mickey's eyes!" Mandy shouted when she noticed her brother's eyes opening.

"Jesus, Mick, you scared the fuck outta me, kid." Iggy sighed, wrapping Mickey in a tight hug, trying to be mindful of the boy's bruised ribs-Iggy's doing, but he'd take his brother being a little sore over dead-busted lip, stitched hairline, and bruised neck. "We're gonna be okay, Mick." Iggy whispered, already knowing Mickey was smart enough to figure out that they would be in the Foster Care system after this.

_**Present Day** _

"We were in the system for a fuckin' year." Mickey said, looking down at where Ian's large. Freckled hands were wrapped around one of his. "I got to stay with Iggy, and Mandy and Sandy were together, but... It was fucked up, man; he almost fuckin' killed me 'cause Mandy and Sandy were sick and 'cause I look like Laura."

"Baby, Terry was a fuckin' monster. I know you think that was on you, but it was Terry bein'... Terry." Ian offered, squeezing Mickey's hand, tighter.

"She knew he fuckin' hit us, and she left us with him." Mickey sniffed, knowing he would probably cry if he allowed himself to, but he couldn't; he couldn't be that weak, even around his husband.

"Fuck her, then; she didn't deserve to be your fuckin' Mom if she didn't see it." Ian said, lifting Mickey's face, gently.

"See what?" Mickey asked, trying to piece together whatever Ian was thinking.

"That you're fuckin' amazing; you knew what Terry would do to Mandy and Sandy, so you protected them, you took care of them when they were sick, and you did everything you could-at fuckin' ten-to keep him away from them." Ian said, leaning in to slot his lips with Mickey's.

"Probably never gonna see her ass, again." Mickey whispered, moving his free hand to run his fingers through Ian's hair. "Don't tell no one I said this, but thanks... For makin' me talk or some shit."

"Any time, Mick." Ian murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "Wanna go back to bed?"

"And you said you wanna "talk" and not fuck me." Mickey scoffed as he stood up.

"Not gonna fuck you; we're gonna go slow and I'm gonna have you beggin'." Ian whispered, pulling Mickey back against his chest as he stood.

"What're you waitin' for, then?" Mickey gasped, pushing his way out of Ian's arms and running towards their bedroom.

_"Hey, it's Mickey. If this an emergency, call Ian. If you don't got his number, then it ain't that important."_ Mickey's voice sounded harsh as his voicemail message played, but there was something... Almost _fond_ in his tone that made Laura smile.

"I got your number from the shop's website, and... I left-I get it-and I don't got a fuckin' right to have an opinion on your life. I don't like it, but you seem happy. I hope you are; I hope you never regret gettin' married, and that you smile, everyday. I always remembered your smile." Laura sniffed, hoping she could get through what she wanted to say to her youngest son.

"I want you to be happy, Mikhai... Mickey. I want you to have a good life, 'cause-even though I left-I always thought about you and Mandy." Laura said, softly. "Maybe you can call me, sometime; I'd like to meet my grandson." With that, Laura hung up the phone and continued her drive back to the Suburb she lived in with her family-the one she started after leaving Colin, Vigo, Mikhailo, and Amanda behind-without another look back.

Mickey knew Ian liked rough sex as much as he did-they both liked to fuck hard and fast-but on days where they needed to feel a connection? They seemed to enjoy it, almost more; enjoyed Mickey sitting in Ian's lap with their arms wrapped tightly around their lover as they slowly rocked together couldn't even be ruined by Mickey's phone ringing and chiming from the nightstand. They stayed close together, basking in every dip, curve, scar, and hard plane of their husband's body, knowing they had all the time in the world.


End file.
